


Dental Delimma

by notthatbitchy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Short, WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthatbitchy/pseuds/notthatbitchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not many people know this, but Dean hates the dentist. And guess who has a cavity?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dental Delimma

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, this is my first fic(let). So hope you like it! It's really only slightly Destiel and just a hint of Sabriel, but honestly I just don't think Dean would like the dentist. Hope you like it! Give me all the feedback and criticism you can :) I'm sure gonna need it!  
> *This is a work in progess! Beyond the normal WIP it's so far from finished it's not even funny. This will be a one-shot, and I am going to be editing for a while! I'll fix the notes when I'm for sure finished XD*

“Really, Dean? This is ridiculous!”  
  
“Yeah well, screw you, Cas,” Dean huffed at the angel that was staring at him with an incredulous expression, “I’m fine and I don’t need to go, so that’s that. End of discussion.”  
  
“It’s the dentist, Dean, not a ferocious monster. You’ve faced far worse than this and you fear a mortal dentist?” Cas couldn’t believe it. Planes he could understand as a logical fear. Humans weren’t meant to be hundreds of feet into the air, but as far as he could tell, dental care wasn’t something logical to fear. In fact, the idea was quite ludicrous.  
  
“I’m not scared of the dentist, damn it. I just don’t see the point in wasting time, going to see some guy who makes a living fiddling around in people’s mouths.” Dean avoided looking at Castiel who continued to look at him as though he was trying to compute what Dean was saying but failing miserably. It was damned annoying, especially with Sam nearly falling out of his chair from laughing so hard. “Shut up, Sam!”  
  
“Ah man, Dean,” Sam wheezed to catch his breath, “This-- this is an all new level for you.” He kept laughing until he failed to dodge the pillow Dean threw at him from across the ratty hotel room. With a direct smack square in the face, Sam finally sobered up enough to keep speaking.  
  
“Dean, when we were growing up, you made sure I got to the dentist at least twice a year to have a check-up and a cleaning. But now that I think about it, you never went, not once, for yourself. Have you always been this afraid of dentists?”  
  
“Dude, I’m not scared of dentists! I just don’t trust people screwing around in my head, alright. Besides, I only started taking you after I turned eighteen and could legally fill out the paper work.” He shrugged. “We’d pop on down to whatever clinic was close enough while Dad was out, and it never took too long so it was no big deal.” Dean stood stiffly and walked across the room to the mini-refrigerator which contained nothing but beer, two left-over bacon cheeseburgers, and a few odd packets of soy-sauce. He pulled out a cold one and a burger, but winced after the first chug. The cold drink hurt like hell when it hit the cavity-filled tooth that he’d been denying was there for the last few weeks. Hell, he’d have denied it was there now if he could.  
  
But Cas had noticed, and of course Cas noticed. He noticed everything when it came to Dean. But it was only after Castiel conferred with Sam because the guy didn't even know what a cavity was, much less how to go about taking care of it. Dental care wasn't something an angel would exactly be overly concerned with, despite being on the planet for over 2,000 years. And Dean certainly would have preferred to keep it that way, but damn it, between the two pains-in-his-ass they had figured it out yesterday. And here they were now, bitching at Dean to go to the dentist. Sam had even made an appointment for crying out loud. Great, thought Dean.  
  
“Dean, don't you think you are being unreasonable abou—“  
  
“Excuse you? Cas, the last time I checked this was my mouth not yours!”  
  
Sam let out a snicker and muttered, “Coulda fooled me.”  
  
Dean whipped around and glared at him, “Oh, don’t you even, Sammy. You have zero room to talk in that department. So how is Gabriel doing these days? Is he even able to walk straight?” Sam only howled more with laughter and pounded on the pillow he had clutched in his lap.  
  
“I think I’ll take a walk.” Sam stood up and headed for the door, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. He was even reaching for the cell phone in his pocket, presumably to call Gabe as soon as he stepped outside. _Oh, God, now I’ll never hear the end of this,_ the king of candy would give him hell for weeks as soon as he heard. Dean flopped back down on the bed with a groan, beer and burger forgotten on the rickety table. He buried his head in hands, propping his elbows up on his knees, and missed the feather-lite footsteps of his angel move directly in front of him.  
  
Castiel reached down and gently took both of Dean’s wrists and pulled them away from his scarlet face. As Dean looked up with an exasperated expression, he met Castiel’s soft eyes and kind smile. With a sigh, Dean loosened up and allowed Castiel to take that one extra step, placing him in-between his knees and flush with Dean’s chest. A blush began to creep back up Dean’s neck, but this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment or frustration.  
  
Dean placed his forehead on his lover’s chest, breathing in the scent that was so distinctly Cas, he couldn’t describe it as anything else. For once, Castiel had taken off his beloved trench coat and suit jacket. The lean muscular chest was all Dean could feel through the thin cotton layer of the button-up. Castiel let go of Dean’s wrists in favor of occasionally carding his fingers through his hair, and Dean immediately wrapped his arms around that delectably lean waist, gripping him tight. They stood like that, still and comfortable until Dean’s breathing finally regulated, and he was able to lean back and look Castiel in the face.  
  
“Cas, I— ”  
  
“Shh. It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupted, his voice more gravely that usual, “No need to explain.”  
  
Dean lowered his head to stare earnestly at their feet. “I know. It’s just that… it doesn’t make any sense.”  
  
“No, it really doesn’t.” Dean glared up at him once more and Cas merely shrugged, “Some fears don’t make sense, Dean. I do believe that’s why they are called phobias.”  
  
“C’mon, I don’t have a phobia.”  
  
“But you do. You aren’t scared of many things in this world, Dean; it humanizes you a bit to know that you are, in fact, scared of something.”  
  
Dean let out a laugh. “So I need humanizing now, huh.” He paused. “Does this make me weak, Cas?”  
  
“Yes.” Dean jerked his head up to show his shocked expression, “Oh right, lying. Uh, no Dean, not at all.” He said the last bit with a firm nod of his head as if trying to convince Dean of his utter sincerity, but Dean only laughed silently and replied by shaking his head.  
  
Before Castiel could begin apologizing, Dean stretched up to brush Cas’s lips with his own. Briefly startled, the angel leaned down to meet the kiss and barely suppressed a groan at the feel of Dean’s soft lips moving slightly against his own. Castiel moved to deepen the kiss with a quick swipe of his tongue and Dean was all too eager to return the favor. With lips locked, tongues entwining, and hands roaming, the heat of the moment grew until Castiel was about to shove Dean back into the mattress and show him just how weak he wasn’t. That is, until Dean slammed his molars down onto Cas’s unsuspecting tongue.  
  
Castiel leaped back from Dean and they echoed each other’s shouts of pain. Castiel’s tongue had healed by the time he made it to the bathroom sink to spit out the mouthful of blood. When he turned back towards the hotel beds, Dean was cupping the right side of his jaw, working it back and forth as though he’d been punched.  
  
“Dentist, Dean. No arguing.”  
  


  



End file.
